


Hot Mess

by Predaking



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Sex but nothing shown, Other, non-canon pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predaking/pseuds/Predaking
Summary: Whirl? Really? Cyclonus had decided to ask Whirl out, of all people? But she already had Tailgate! Why take Whirl too?At least that's what everyone else says, but Whirl can hear, you know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [bangs pots and pans together] LET! THE! ROBOTS! BE! POLY!
> 
> Also non-canon pronouns, Cyclonus and Whirl are both she/her

Who could love a hot mess?

At least that was the question commonly asked. The words changed, the tone of voice changed, but the core message was still there. Whirl was becoming more and more aware of it as time went on, as the question had been directed at Cyclonus more than once. Sometimes it was subtle, slipped in with polite conversation or something of the like. But it came out eventually, and Cyclonus went silent.

Whirl noticed, even though in those times she was usually flooded to the vents with engex, she noticed. She never commented on it, of course. What was she, some sort of oversensitive baby? No, of course not! So she laughed it off, ordered another round of drinks, and continued her night.

In a way, they were right though. Whirl was a hot mess. She was noisy, messy, loud, and violent. On top of that she was just a little too vocal about she and Cyclonus’s bedroom life. No one wanted to hear it, but she barked about it anyway. Embarrassed bar patrons often asked Cyclonus to make her stop, but she never did. She was too old and tired to care anymore. If people knew her secrets that weren’t that deep, so be it. Plus she rather be known as the girl that’s fucking a nutjob than the dangerous Ex-con.

And in moments like this, the question rose again. In secretive whispers, where people thought neither of them could hear. “Who could love a hot mess?”

Whirl tried to hide it, but it did hurt a little. Of course it hurt, it all hurt. The names, the harsh looks, the shaking hands and scared faces when people interacted with her. Like they were talking to a rabid turbofox, begging it not to bite them.

 _“Good girl, good girl, don’t shoot, calm down. Easy now, easy now.”_ She could almost hear them think it, but she wasn’t gifted with telepathy like some others were.

So she hid it, covered it up with violence, either in threats or actions. Threaten to knock their lights out, tell them to mind their own damn business. And so on and so forth.

It was true, she never told anyone but it was true, she had always hated herself. But she had built herself a defensive wall to hide it. Made of titanium, lined with spikes, and covered in armed guards. And somehow, Cyclonus bypassed it.

The first time they met, it went how most first meetings with Whirl go. Cyclonus reacted to her with fear and hate. Whirl almost killed her, and Cyclonus held a grudge. But things changed, people grew. Eventually Cyclonus came around, apologized for her actions, and she never did get around to killing Whirl. They got to know each other, became friends. In some weird twisted sense of the word. And eventually, in a twist of events, Cyclonus asked her out.

Whirl, at the suggestion, was floored. (The words rang through her head, “who could love a hot mess?”) Cyclonus had knocked on the defense wall asking entry, and a thousand rifles were trained on her helm. Whirl went through a small range of emotions, this had to be a set up, right?

She fumed, demanding to know who had set Cyclonus up. It was a prank right? She felt betrayed, she actually trusted Cyclonus, and she pulled this! Cyclonus did manage to convince her she was genuine, and Whirl came to her senses. Cyclonus wasn’t exactly the joking type anyway. So she agreed to it, on the inside absolutely thrilled that someone could even feel that way about her with, well, with the way she was.

There was one thing though. Cyclonus had invited Whirl to a poly relationship with Tailgate. Of course these kind of relationships weren’t uncommon on Cybertron. With such a long lifespan it wasn’t for everyone to stay with one person your entire life. The relationship never went full circle though, it was more like the two were sharing Cyclonus than all three of them were dating. But it did make Whirl feel a little inferior, like a second choice out of pity.

And thats where the comments cut deeper than they should have.

“She already has that little minibot, why take Whirl along? She have some sort of empurata fetish?” was overheard from a conversation one day. That was the drop that broke the camel’s back.

It was true, and she had to admit she wasn’t all that nice to Tailgate either. It was easier to pick on someone who wouldn’t fight back. Should she have felt guilty about that? She didn’t know. But what she did know, was Tailgate didn’t like her.

And she got quiet, still going to Swerve’s but instead of yelling over the music and oversharing her life stories she just sat in silence with her drink. The way her intake was located, a small tube that popped out where her head and neck connected, it allowed her to just prop her head resting on a glass while lazily slurping the hard engex through a straw. No one bothered her, perhaps they were grateful they could have their peace for once.

But even in a heavily intoxicated state, she could still hear.

“You think they broke up?”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Feel a little bad for her, though.”

Whirl released a deep exvent; Cyclonus may as well have.

 _“Let’s face it.”_ She thought. _“It probably was never for you. Some fetish, a joke, gotta be something like that. She never really cared about you.”_

She felt someone sit down heavily next to her, and she was about to growl out a warning before noticing the dark purple paint.

“Hey babe,” She slurred out, “Not really feelin’ up to it tonight, s’better to just go back to sleep…”

Whirl didn’t have a face to express emotion, but Cyclonus did. She never used it for that though, all in all she had about two expressions. Angry and neutral. It was more like she had a still mask covering her helm internals instead of a face.

“Didn’t really want to anyway.” came the reply, she tapped the counter to get Swerve’s attention and order her drink. “You want to get a booth?”

“Nah, m’fine.” she bubbled, her mug at this point had run dry and she was just sucking on empty air. She didn’t seem to care about it.

The unfortunate circumstance was Whirl was already over her limit while Cyclonus was just getting started. So the two sat in silence with not much conversation passing, and eventually Whirl got tired of the awkward tension.

She raised her head, pulling the straw out of her intake tube and popping open her subspace to dig out payment for the drinks.

Cyclonus stopped her by holding out her hand, “I’ll pay for it.” She said, already dropping a handful of shanix from her own subspace on the counter.  

“You’re too good to me.“ she said, a grin in her voice. She pushed herself up from the counter, preparing to stumble her away out the bar without starting any sort of fight.

“I was finished anyway, do you want me to walk you to your habsuite?” Cyclonus stood up a little more gracefully than Whirl had, extending her hand for Whirl to take it.

Whirl just stared at it, before shaking her head. Bad idea, that just gave her a dizzy headache. “Can’t be leavin’, you just got here. Don’ let me drag ya’ down horn head.” She pushed Cyclonus’s hand away, finally making her exit.

When she got out to the corridor, she found Cyclonus had thrown her arm over her shoulder. Whirl just accepted it, not much in the mood to argue anyway. They walked the halls in silence, everyone was usually in recharge this time of night. The only ones awake were those who enjoyed the minimum night life the Lost Light had to offer, and were hitting up the bar.

Whirl’s habsuite didn’t have a keypad code, just a button to open the door. Rodimus had that put in after Whirl couldn’t type in the right code with her big claws and ended up just ripping the door off its hinges. It didn’t really matter, there wasn’t a lot for her to worry about, nobody wanted to break into her room.

Whirl opened the door, quickly finding her way to the berth, and flopping down on it. She had an awkward body build, and thus only truly felt comfortable laying down when she was tangled in a mess of limbs and how did she not break her spinal strut twisted up like that? She let out a bubbling grunt, her tanks were starting to feel a little sick after the sudden sharp movement.

Cyclonus started to leave, and in a sudden burst of energy Whirl shot her arm out to grab Cyclonus’s.

“Stay?” she asked. She said it in a soft voice, as if she was afraid Cyclonus would laugh in her face.

Cyclonus nodded; closing the door and nudging Whirl over to lay next to her. The routine was always the same, Whirl had to untangle herself so Cyclonus could get a grip on her and not get knocked off the berth. She couldn’t hug someone from the front, because the way her chassis was built, so instead Cyclonus would curl against her back. It wasn’t bad, though. At least Whirl wasn’t complaining.

Cyclonus was always fast to fall asleep. It seemed like as soon as her head hit the berth she was passed out. Whirl was the opposite, sometimes she had to forcibly shut down her systems to get into recharge. She stared at the wall for a long while, still thinking about everything that had happened at the bar. Both tonight and the nights before.

“...Hey, Cyc.” she muttered.

Cyclonus cracked open one eye; she was quick to fall asleep but also an incredibly light sleeper.

“Hm?”

“You...like me yeah? Like, like like me?” Primus she sounded like a newspark with a crush.

“Of course I do, why?” Whirl could hear the confusion in her voice, and her spark twisted tightly. Cyclonus probably thought she was an idiot.

“Just...making sure.”

Another stretch of silence, Whirl could tell Cyclonus had fallen back to sleep. She elbowed her awake. “But, like, do you mean it?”

Cyclonus grumbled. “I can go back to my habsuite if you’re just trying to keep me awake.”

Whirl slumped back down, “...sorry.”

Cyclonus sat bolt upright, startling Whirl into almost toppling over. “What’s wrong?” The thing was, Whirl never apologized for anything.

Shit, she had caught on. Whirl put on a false chipper attitude, “Nothin’! Just messin’ with ya!” she chimed, offlining her optic to fake sleeping. “Been a long day, go to sleep.”

“Whirl,” Cyclonus rested her hand on Whirl’s shoulder. “If there’s something wrong-”

“There isn’t.” The words came out more harsh than she had wanted them to, Cyclonus’s hand retreated. Whirl felt like her spark might’ve just snuffed out right there. She guessed she had to come clean sometime.

“Yanno, people…say things about us. Well, more about me. Crazy, wacko Whirl! They talk about how you should...have higher standards. Somethin’ like that I don’t know. And, yanno sometimes...I start to believe them. That you’re just sticking around because you feel sorry for me. Plus, you got Tailgate, yeah? I don’t even think the little guy likes me too much.”

 _“Primus open up your chest and let her claw out your internals why dont c’ha?”_ She never opened up like this, only to Rung. And even then it was more out of she rather talk to him then stay in the brig for being too dangerous.

“Whirl,” Cyclonus also rarely showed much emotion in her voice, but now she sounded...somber almost. “You know those people at the bar are just, are just uh,” For once in her eloquent life she was at a loss for words.

“Awful? Stupid? Hateful? Spiteful? Rude?” Whirl offered.

“Any of those will do,” Cyclonus gave one nod, “I don’t like Tailgate over you, and I don’t like you just for sex or a joke or because I feel sorry for you. You and I have been through things Tailgate doesn’t get and hopefully never will. I trust you, we understand each other. Don’t compare yourself to her, my relationship with both of you is different.”

Whirl was quiet, well more like a guilty silence. She felt Cyclonus cup her chin, forcing her to look at her.

“You’re a good person, okay? And you can show off whatever side of you you want to those people, but I’ll always know the truth.”

They both knew Cyclonus also never opened up this much unless she was really trying to make a point. Whirl didn’t really know how to respond, so she just nodded. She didn’t have a snarky remark, or any sort of comeback really. Just silence, only silence. Cyclonus let go of her helm, and she finally settled down to rest.

“Thanks, skull face. Means a lot…” and she did mean it, even through her weird insulty nickname.

Cyclonus laid back down, pressing a kiss to the back of Whirl’s neck as she wrapped her arms around her again.

“I love you, okay?”

Whirl’s optic went dim, losing her stiff posture and falling into the scrambled position she was used to.

“That’s pretty gay, Cyc.”

Some things never changed.


End file.
